“Ready?” He flipped a switch, putting the microphone in front of her. “Just go ahead and read.”
She cleared her throat, letting the swimming words on the paper come into focus.
It was hard to do with him watching her. “Every morning I check the calendar. Twenty-seven days, baby. I’m marking it with big red X’s, one day at a time…” Jason leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was thoughtful, discerning. She could read the criticism in his eyes, could almost see his thoughts.
“What?” She stopped, frowning.
“You’re really nervous.” He leaned over and turned off the mic.
She sighed, looking down at the curled edge of the red folder, her still-dyed-pink fingers. “I know.”
He leaned forward in his chair, tenting his fingers under his chin. “Close your eyes.” She blinked at him, swallowing hard. “Go on, do it.” She hesitated, but did as he asked, almost immediately feeling a relief when she couldn’t see him looking at her.
“Now… imagine you’re Katie…”
“But…”
“No ‘buts,’ Cal.” His voice was firm, commanding. “Do it.”
“Okay, okay.”
“The thing that’s so amazing about your stories is that they come alive in the reader’s imagination…” His voice felt closer and she took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. “Now you get to really live them… let them live through you.” His words moved her, in spite of herself, and she felt her body softening, relaxing into the chair.
“So become Katie… let her breathe…”
He startled her, touching her belly as she leaned back in the chair. His hand was large and very warm as it pressed her navel through her blouse. “Breathe, Cal…” He rubbed, gently, making her shiver. “Breathe…” She took a deep, shaky breath. “Good…
now, say something Katie would say.”
Callie didn’t think, she just spoke, feeling Katie’s longing, her deep, tender ache.
“Oh god, baby, I miss you…”
“Yes!” Jason encouraged. “More!”
“I can’t…” She felt the press of Jason’s hand, a reminder, and relaxed. “I can’t wait to feel you inside of me…”
“Yes,” he breathed, his hand moving, his fingers slipping just barely between the buttons of her blouse, touching skin.
She moaned softly, her head going back. “I want your big, hard cock in me…” His fingers slid further, the heat of them touching the softness of her belly. “Fucking me…”
His hand pressed harder and she heard his sharp intake of breath. “Fucking my hot, wet, little cunt…”
“Oh god.” He groaned.
“Yes?” She opened her eyes to him, seeing the hungry look on his face.
He nodded, swallowing. “Oh yes.”
“I’m ready.” She sat up, grabbing the paper off the table.
“Me, too.” He sighed, leaning over and turning on the mic. “Go.”
She started again, her voice softer, lower, filled with secret and promise, a thousand times richer and more complex than it had been when she first spoke into the microphone. He nodded his approval, leaning back in his chair, resting an ankle on the opposite knee. His eyes on her didn’t make her nervous now, she noticed. In fact, the further she got into the story, the more she liked him looking at her, seeing the changing expression on his face.
“That’s how you make me feel, every word, every letter. And now it’s less than a month and we’ll be together, face to face, touching each other, no longer just words and pictures. I can’t help thinking about it, about you, what it will be like for us in those moments…”
She glanced up at him, seeing the startled look in his eyes, and her next words stumbled. “Oh, I messed that up…”
He shook his head, making a rolling motion with his hand. “Just keep going. Take it from that sentence.”
She nodded, turning back to the words.
“We couldn’t stop it, you know. It’s like a driving force between us now, can you imagine what it will be like when we come together? Come together… yes, come and come and come… I’m wet just imagining it…”
Callie crossed and uncrossed her legs, feeling that familiar ache she always got when reading or writing erotica, but it wasn’t just that. Jason’s eyes were dark, hungry, and she knew he was thinking the same thing. She glanced at his hands in his lap and wondered, for a moment, if her reading was making him hard. As hard as she was wet… the thing was, she was wet, just imagining it. And she wasn’t pretending to be Katie, anymore…
“I’ll open the door, and there you’ll be, your eyes dark with anticipation and lust, your bags in your hands. There might be a moment, a flicker of hesitation, your face a question, asking me, but you’ll know, the minute I look into your eyes. How could you not? It’s always been yes with you. My whole body is your ‘yes…’”
“Cal…” His interruption surprised her and she looked up, seeing him swallow, as if his mouth were dry.
“Hm?” She couldn’t help the yes in her eyes, and he took it for what it was, both of them carried by the story, by her voice speaking the words, by months of talking about doing this, by the possibility. His mouth caught hers, dipping down to capture it and lift her face up to meet his kiss. She followed his lead, gripping the paper in her fist as his mouth grew more insistent, his tongue slipping between her lips.
The heat in her belly spread, her whole body flushing as they came together, Jason standing and pulling her with him, kicking his chair back out of the way. He was too tall for her and she had to stretch on tiptoes to keep their mouths connected. She was afraid to break that connection, and he was desperate for it, too, his hands slipping down and cupping her behind, lifting her up to him.
Her skirt was pulled up high when he turned and set her on the table, his cock like iron between her legs. She hooked her heels around him, tugging at the place where his shirt tucked into his belt, seeking the heat of his skin and finding it under her hands. His back was lean and smooth under her fingers, and he broke their kiss, gasping into her hair, her ear.
“Oh god, Cal…”
She knew what he was going to say, could feel it in the subtle stiffening of his body, the tremor in his voice, and she shook her head, turning her eyes up to his.
“No.” She didn’t want to think about any reason either of them might have not to do this, and saw the same look on his face, twisted there, caught. Her one hand slipped between them to cup the heat of his erection while the other brought her forgotten story up so she could see the words. “I’m not Cal… I’m Katie…”
She tightened her grip, making him moan, as she read deliberately, throatily:
“A skirt, that’s what I’d wear for you. Short, yes, teacher-like, a button-down blouse so you could pop every one of them—just rip it down the front. Kick the door closed and come over here, baby, because I’ve got something warm and soft and wet for you to sink into.
I’m so yours…”
“Oh fuck!” He groaned and kissed her again, kissed her quiet, their mouths no longer cautious or exploring, but wild with their lust. She sucked at his tongue, moaning into his mouth as his hand cupped her breast through her blouse, thumbing her hard nipple. It stood up against the material, growing harder under his attention, and she didn’t know which was harder, her nipple straining against her blouse or his cock throbbing through his trousers.
She fumbled with his belt as he worked the buttons on her blouse, their tongues making soft, probing circles together. He groaned and broke their kiss when she slipped her hand into his boxers, seeking his length. She freed him quickly, and he glanced down past the half-moon globes of her breasts swelling above the top of her bra, watching her hand tugging at him. His expression was caught between wonder and denial, and she squeezed the tip between her fingers, rubbing the head with her thumb.